


Dreams in the Key of Waffles

by OmniaVanitus



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Crack, Funny, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 14:04:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1607816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OmniaVanitus/pseuds/OmniaVanitus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Not overly fond' is a very mild sentiment. In truth, Loki hates Thor. He hates it when Thor calls him 'brother', he hates having to spend time with the loudmouthed oaf and he especially hates it when the thunderer makes an appearance in his dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams in the Key of Waffles

Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers or any of the characters thereof, but I do claim the creative liberties to this story.

* * *

It was the dead of night at Stark Tower and all was quiet save for the soothing hum of electricity. Everyone within had already retired. Even the eccentric billionaire, Tony Stark, was fast asleep, snuggled up next to his dark haired lover. Tony was sleeping peacefully, but the god tucked against his side was fitful, the silk sheets tangling around him as he tossed and turned.

Loki bolted up right suddenly, his deep green eyes wide for a fraction of a second before they narrow dangerously.

Disentangling himself from Tony's possessive grasp, the mischievous god slinked from the bedroom, letting an ominous growl slip from his throat as he stalked through the tower.

"Thor."

* * *

At first, everything was dark and quiet. And then bright florescent lights flicker on overhead, blinding him momentarily as a roar of applause erupts around him.

Loki wasn't sure where he was and the familiar faces in the crowd around him do little to comfort him. Tony is sitting next to him, clapping and catcalling wildly with the rest of the audience as he tossed a few suggestive winks his way. The rest of the Avengers were there, along with Fury and several of his SHIELD operatives. Even Sif and the Warriors Three were present, smiling brightly and encouragingly.

The lights dim, though he can still make out the faces around him, and a spotlight comes on, shining down on the stage before them and the hulking, blonde Asgardian.

"Welcome, Brother," Thor called out loudly. He was standing behind a counter, the top of which was covered in stacks of steaming waffles. "And have I got a deal for you!"

"Thor?"

"They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and what could be better than delicious, golden brown waffles in the morning? Nothing," he shouts before whispering conspiratorially to the audience, "except for maybe Pop Tarts." The crowd laughs mindlessly and even Fury is uncharacteristically cheerful. "Now some of you may be wondering why waffles are so great. The answer: because they are. Enough said."

"Thor‒"

"Enough. Said," Thor says seriously, his jovial mood dropping for a few brief seconds before he perks up again. "Now let's go out to the audience. Is there someone here who would like to share with us how they enjoy waffles?"

Director Nick Fury stands and moved down to a microphone placed conveniently nearby. "I like to eat my waffles with a side of fried chicken and grape soda."

Loki hears the man next to him huff in annoyance and watches silently as Tony leans forward and shouts, "racist, that's racist!"

Fury turned and levels his single eye on the engineer, his signature scowl finally making an appearance. "It's not racist when I'm the one saying it."

"Way to live up to the stereotype then."

"Now that's fucking racist," Fury growls.

Thor laughs brightly, either ignoring or ignorant of their argument. "Fried chicken and waffles, a fine combination. Anyone else?"

One by one, members from the audience step forward to give their testimony.

"Waffles saved my life." ‒ Agent Phil Coulson.

"I use waffles to polish and clean my sword." ‒ Sif.

"I use them for target practice." ‒ Agent Clint Barton.

"For years now I've been using them to stuff my bra." ‒ Agent Maria Hill.

"So useful these waffles are," Thor beamed proudly. "Who would have guessed? And for just three easy payments of $19.99, you too can have your very own waffle. Supplies are limited, so get yours today!"

"I don't want to buy your waffles," Loki muttered under his breath.

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Loki," Thor began as he raised Mjölnir threateningly, "if you do not purchase these fine quality waffles, then I swear to you, you will regret it.

"Fine," Loki barks angrily, "I'll buy your damned waffles. Just shut up!"

"Excellent choice, Brother. But do you know what goes great with these delicious waffles? Syrup!"

Loki could feel Tony lean into him. "We should get some," his lover cooed. "I have a few innovative uses for syrup I'd like to show you."

* * *

The door to Thor's bedroom flew open and banged against the wall making it rattle on its hinges. The thunderer just barely stirred from all the commotion before a heavy weight landed on him and long, boney fingers dug into his skin. He cracked his blue eyes open, staring up blearily into angry green.

"Here are your damn waffles, Thor," Loki yelled at him, shoving a fresh waffle dripping with syrup into his face and down his throat. "I hope you choke!"

Loki left just as quickly as he had come, leaving a stunned god of thunder in his wake. Thor picked up a piece of waffle as the warm weight next to him stirred.

Pulling the sheets from over his head, Clint peeked out cautiously. "What the hell was that all about?"

"I don't know," Thor answered. "Loki has always been an odd one." He popped the piece of waffle into his mouth and added, "but he does make a tasty waffle."


End file.
